


i'll squeal, said she

by bergamots, haganenobeato



Series: may i feel, said he [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Teacher-Student Relationship, a deleted scene from 'may i feel said he'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 23:51:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13891770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bergamots/pseuds/bergamots, https://archiveofourown.org/users/haganenobeato/pseuds/haganenobeato
Summary: She’s eager to know him, traverse beyond the parameters of a professor and his student, surpass the easily-defined roles of assistant and mentor, to arrive at a destination where they are simple human beings with an extraordinary ache for each other. In her, she yearns for him in the most basic and primal of ways, and a desire to know how his muscles shift over her with the warmth of his skin on her own. It translates easily enough to: she wants him.





	i'll squeal, said she

**Author's Note:**

> this smut was written by mar very early on, and try as we might, we simply couldn't find a way to fit it in with the unexpected ways the plot lead us on. instead of leaving it forgotten, mar and i wanted to share it with you! it has a markedly different tone to the fic u all enjoy now, but we hope u enjoy this glimpse into a different way things could've gone down between roy and riza <3
> 
> the title is taken from the second line of 'may i feel said he' by e.e. cummings, and the poem referenced by riza in this chapter is the full version. enjoy!

Riza never flirts with danger. There’s a comfort in the confines of her predetermined routine, in her role as a working college student. Occasionally, flings and romantic interests may sprout from the unknown like weeds, but they’re removed before they have a chance to infest the rest of her garden.  

However, she has gone past the precipice now; jumped and dived into tumultuous waters to let the tides decide what to do with her now. Professor Mustang gave her a choice in his office to think about his proposition, to choose and leaving it up to her. She plunges headfirst.

No, she waltzes into his auditorium with a skirt shorter than necessary, baring everything underneath.

He notices, of course. He always notices, since that first day. She’s to blame too. Riza instigated this, this entire heady insanity, by falling asleep in his class, by accepting the coffee bought for her, by kissing him in the library - she isn’t innocent here.

She’s far from innocent: uncrossing and crossing her legs when he looks her way. A hand subtly covers her mouth, to hide her amusement, when he visibly chokes on the words from his lecture. The podium becomes his safe haven, his sanctuary to hide, for the rest of the class, and every so often, they’ll exchange glances and the reactions amuse her more than it should. He fingers his collar, sigh heavily, and trip over words unexpected of someone of his professional caliber – no matter how young.

Riza commends him for finishing the lecture coherently, and she’s surprisingly calm for the majority of it. It’s when the room is left empty for them that her heart beats loudly in the silence.

“You were distracting.” Roy announces from the front of the hall. He busies himself gathering his papers. He doesn’t look at her.

“I noticed.” Riza sounds unapologetically smug, despite tingling nerves, and she lifts herself from her seat. Her legs move themselves down the gradual steps and with each foot forward, she’s reminded that she has nothing underneath. It makes her blush; it makes her body ignite, kindling without remorse in between her thighs. It gets worse the closer she gets. Her hips wiggle a little from her own anticipation.

She’s eager to know him, traverse beyond the parameters of a professor and his student, surpass the easily-defined roles of assistant and mentor, to arrive at a destination where they are simple human beings with an extraordinary ache for each other. In her, she yearns for him in the most basic and primal of ways, and a desire to know how his muscles shift over her with the warmth of his skin on her own. It translates easily enough to: she wants him.

Roy removes his glasses, sets them down, and  _finally,_ he looks at her. “Are you ready to make up for it?”

Caught off guard, she says nothing.

“Why don’t you recite your favorite poem?”

Her eyes follow him as he turns the key for the lock, ensuring no interruptions. “Is this…?

“Extra credit,” he says, winking at her and smirking at her expense.

She bites her bottom lip as a deviousness  overtakes her mind like a cloud on a sunny day. It blocks all light, vanishes all inhibitions. “ _may I feel said he_  by e.e. cummings.”

His eyebrows raise curiously as he crosses his arms and leans on the desk in front of her, casually gesturing her to begin.

Heart pounding at her chest, she breathes in and the nerves sets in:

_“May I feel said he,_

_“I’ll_ squeal _said she,_

_“Just once said he._

_“It’ll be fun said she.”_

He’s gone very still and it throws her for a moment. She cannot read his expression; there is no usual smirk pulling at his lips, there are no lines wrinkled kindly around his dark eyes. She feels bereft - painfully aware of the colour rising in her cheeks, how very small she suddenly feels in the lecture hall. He continues to stare at her blankly, before she takes another deep breath to continue but as the words hover on her tongue, he steals her of it:

“ _May I touch said he_.”

Her heart flutters and the excitement pools as heat in between her legs. “ _How much said she._ ”

A wolfish smile. “ _A lot said he_.”

Riza shrugs coyly, “ _Why not said she._ ”

He releases a low chuckle. His hands seek out her hips to close the distance and she steps forward. Riza thinks of the ingenious idea of putting one of his legs in between her own, just so he can feel the slow rocking of her own hips. He chokes out, “ _Let’s go said he_.” He maneuvers their bodies to swirl them opposite of their positions

Riza pushes her toes down to sit on the desk, he’s in between her legs and her legs spread like that exposes her to the contrast in the temperature. He raises the temperature of her skin when he kisses her neck, she can feel the throbbing pulse where the blood is rushing and his hands slowly climbing up the side of her legs, and elicits a breathy sigh of her next line, “ _Not too far said she._ ”

He suddenly breaks away, taking a couple steps back, and his raised eyebrows say “shock” but his lips say, “ _What’s too far said he_.”

“ _Where you are said she._ ” And Riza pulls him forward by the hem of his slacks. She also frees the shirt tucked in them all the way up to his face and kisses him with less apprehension than the time in the library and more hunger and lust. Her legs keep his in place.

Her professor murmurs, “ _May I stay said he._ ”

She whispers, “ _Which way said she._

His exploring hands near the evidence of her arousal. “ _Like this said he_ ,” he touches her lips, and wets his fingers in between her folds. Riza bites her lip, closing her eyes and sinking her nails lightly on his shoulders.  Her breathing quickens with his tease. He touches her clit and backs away; adjust his fingers at her entrance and abandons the thought. She almost whines She can hear how wet she is, the noises of her skin moving against his skin, and desire makes her want him to subjugate it, to subjugate her.

She gets a better idea. Her hands slip under his shirt and discovers the treasures hidden underneath the white Oxford shirt in ripples of muscles; she scrapes her nails again his warm skin. Riza leans towards his ear as he’s kissing the skin of her bare clavicle. “ _If you **kiss** said she._”

Roy stops. He straightens himself with a dark look in his eyes with a smile just as dark. It tickles insider her. The hand leaning against the edge of his desk lifts and nudges her down to the desk; her back flattens against the length of it. The fingers teasing her cunt leave her and she releases a tiny whine of need. His fingers are glistening  and he licks them clean one by one. He looks impressed, like he enjoys the ways she tastes. He urges her to continue without him as he tugs her legs forward until part of her  is hanging off the desk, her legs dangling at either side of his head.

Riza feels his tongue travel from her sex and flicker off at the tip of her clit. She inhales and she throbs where his tongue just passed through. Her hand moves through her hair and palms her bangs, strands slipping in between the cracks. She notices nothing else happens after a few moments and she looks down to see him looking at her expectantly.  _Oh, right._ “ _May I move said -_ ahh  _\- he._ ”

He interrupts her line with his ministrations with his mouth. His tongue… his choice of torture… it moves around her, licking her up, circling around her sex that ushers her to the precipice of her climax.

Riza tries to control her breathing, “ _Is it -_ -” she swallows a loud moan – “ _love said she._ ”

He inserts a digit - then two. Her eyes open wide. It’s what she’s been craving. Weeks of this tension tormenting her - building and stacking since the first day; a need that couldn’t,  _wouldn’t_  be quelled by her own hands. She whimpers, low and breathless, “ _If you’re willing said he._ ” Roy moves in and out of her tantalizingly slow as his mouth works and sucks on the bud of nerves, swollen from being played with.

In the curl of her toes, in the arch of her back, with the pull of his hair, she feels it crashing onto her shores. In slow and steady waves, it washes over her. Her legs tremble over his shoulders. As one hand tries to find purchase on something -  _anything -_  to help her with the jerks of her body from her orgasm, the other - red from gripping the corner of his desk - is secured between her teeth to keep their secret of their indecency within the classroom. Muffled, she recites, “ _But you’re killing said she._ ”

Riza tries to recover. Her chest is heaving and a drowsiness threatens to steal her consciousness. At the edge of the darkness, she hears him shuffle around, perhaps she can even seen him wiping his face. Riza hears him say, “ _But it’s life said he._ ”

She smiles drowsily, “ _But your wife said she._ ”

At her hips, Roy flips her over. “ _Now said he_.” Her body is softened and she does so with ease. Her belly is flattened against the surface of the desk. The papers, notes, outlines, are wrinkled beneath her.

With laughter, Riza continues, “ _Ow said she._ ” The flap of her skirt is lifted and once again she is reminded of her arousal. Her ass out in the air of the lecture hall, over her professor’s desk. All she can think about is how she wants his cock so bad and he spreads her legs for her. Buckles are undone, zippers are messed with, and she looks back to see condom rolling on him. Riza lifts herself and her lower back is pushed back down to the solid desk.

Her forehead meets the solid desk. She’s made her bed - she plans on sleeping on it, defilling it, letting it defile her. “ _Tiptop said he_ ,” she mutters impatiently.

Hands are on each side of her hips. She feels his own need, asking a hard and pointed question, as he lubricates the length of him in between her. She gasps as his tip meets hers and she cants her hips, “ _Don’t stop said she._ ”

Then he does something completely unexpected. With an open palm, he smacks her ass. The impact vibrates throughout her in a low squeal to the end of her clit. Riza’s had very vanilla sexual experiences before and this… this thrills her. Thinking inside of the box, playing within the confines of the rules, has been her very definition. Now the thought of fucking Roy Mustang is something she’s come to terms with in as little as four weeks. She swallows, “ _Oh no said he.”_

“ _Go slow said she_.” And he does. Roy fills her slowly. She’s so wet that it’s easy for him despite his size. He’s all the way in and she feels it to the tips of her toes again. She holds in her moan as he exits, and he continues with slow rhythm. But it’s  _agonizing._  She wants him to go hard and fast, because she can handle it, and at the same time, Riza wants to savor this.

Riza grabs his hands and places them at the bend of her hips. She communicates that she wants him to bite down into her skin with his nails, she wants to be spanked again at the risk of questions rising of the happenings of a locked classroom. He obeys one of them, a low growl in the depths of his chest, and picks up speed like he can read her mind. His weight is on her and he provokes a spot that has her grasping at everything she can touch with each thrust. She wants to scream his name, letting every syllable fill the lecture hall, but she elects to bite down  on her knuckle knuckle instead.

“Finish the poem,” he grunts.

She looks at him from the corner of her eyes, mouth open for gasps of breath. “I - can’t…  _mmmhf…_  I’ll -  _aah-! .._.” Her walls tighten around him and this orgasm isn’t as violent, or as evident, as the pleasure from their sex keeps her going before she can rest.

He kisses the lobe of her ear, tenderly. He whispers something reassuring and to nod if she understands the words that will keep her safe from harm. Riza does so. Something in her gut senses the calm before the storm.

Riza isn’t wrong. He leans back without compromising rhythm. His fingers spread throughout the back of her head before he fists a handful of hair and lifts her chest off the desk. Her hands are flat and she winces, but he  _doesn’t_   ** _stop_**. She realizes what the words were for now, but he’s sillier than she thought if he thinks she wants to use it. He’s going harder and faster and the desk is whining from the duress it’s being put under.

He yanks back a little to catch her attention. He growls, “ _Continue_.”

She swallows hard, and tries to find her voice between each breath, “ _C-Come? said he_.” It is coming back. She knows she will be sore from the way her back is arching to the flexing of her leg muscles. Her arms will be gelatin tomorrow morning and the fuzziness overtakes her mind of it all. It’s so fucking satisfying -  _he’s_ so fucking satisfying, he’s literally fucking the rationale out of her. “ _Um said she._ ”

It crashes into her again. With him brushing against her swollen clit, she scratches at the desk, bites down on her lip  _hard_ , and her neck becomes taut. In low cries she says, “ _You’re divine - said he_.” And it doesn’t take long for him to shudder from his own release. He lets her go and Riza falls to the desk, her arms wobbly from the endorphins enveloping her. He’s breathing heavily on top of her. Both so opposite, yet in tandem, that when she breathes in, so does he, but it is uncomfortable, and slows the recovery. 

Regardless, she finishes: “ _You are mine said she_.”


End file.
